


settlers

by franticallywhisperedstories



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Claustrophobia, College AU, F/F, Self-Doubt, Slight Internalized Homophobia, let's all hug amy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franticallywhisperedstories/pseuds/franticallywhisperedstories
Summary: Rosa is in the closet.Amy is in the closet and very claustrophobic. Naturally, it ends in a huge step in their relationship.





	

Amy personally believes that she’s done a lot of pretty difficult things in her life. She competed against all of her brothers plus her mom in a drinking contest, she deleted an entire essay in a fit of self-doubt two nights before it was due and had to rewrite the whole thing, she ate her own cooking for three years straight, she asked out the most intimidatingly gorgeous and just plain intimidating girl in the whole school, probably and went through with the wonderfully disastrous date that followed.

None of it holds a candle to this.

She presses sweaty palms against her jeans and squeezes her eyes shut. How long can someone spend getting ready for a party? Surely Rosa’s roommate is nearly done with her makeup or whatever it is she’s doing- not that Amy’s being critical of another girl’s appearance efforts, because she is working really hard to be aggressively supportive of all the girls in the world, even if she would really, really benefit from them leaving right now possibly please and thank you? 

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Amy _hates_ this.

The night started out really fantastically well, actually. Rosa invited her over, which was nice, because Rosa isn’t really the inviting-over type. They were almost certainly going to kiss a lot and then maybe, if the night went very well, they would play Settlers of Catan and it would end with them screaming and throwing the little resource cards at each other and probably kissing more.

Sometimes, Amy still can’t believe that this is her life. If anyone had told her a year ago that the bisexual disaster that she is would actually get a very amazing girlfriend who kisses like she’s in a dramatic romance movie _all the time,_ she would laugh in their faces. Or, you know, some equivalent of that that gets the same message across because Amy tries her best to be polite to everyone. It’s a skill that will come in handy in her later life, she’s sure.

Thinking about Rosa only minimally decreases the anxiety, but she really does think she’s doing well, all things considered.

They did kiss, by the way. They kissed and it was great and definitely heading towards Settlers of Catan, and then Rosa’s stupid roommate (no, not stupid, very intelligent no doubt and surely a wonderful person _come on, Amy)_ knocked on the door and Rosa had looked actually terrified, which was a change from her usual cool demeanor.

And then, yeah, Rosa shoved her in the closet.

Amy’s not even mad. Really! It was a reasonable reaction during a stressful time, and there was no way for Rosa to know that her girlfriend of three months now is claustrophobic.

Very, very claustrophobic.

But it’s okay! Amy can handle this. It’s good practice for later in life, when she won’t be able to prepare for everything and the universe will occasionally throw her a curveball in the shape of a very small space filled with leather jackets because Rosa Diaz has never heard of variety. 

“Aren’t you going to that party thing?” Amy presses her head against the door, clinging to Rosa’s voice which is dry and pleasant and . . . doesn’t sound all that concerned, to be honest.

“Mmm, yeah,” Rosa’s Mystery Roommate says with a distinct smack of lipstick. “Maybe I should take a shower first, though. I’m probably gross.”

“You look fine,” Rosa says. “You’ve already got all your makeup on and everything, you’re good.”

Amy still doesn’t detect any nervousness in Rosa’s tone, but she’s actively working to get Amy out of here which is a blessed relief. 

“Okay!” Mystery Roommate chirps. Amy doesn’t remember her name, which she would normally feel bad about, but she’s kind of in panic mode here. “I’m going to come back so drunk.”

“I look forward to it,” Rosa says. “Have fun.”

Amy feels like she should probably be letting out a breath or something, but she doesn’t. She can’t focus on anything but Mystery Roommate’s footsteps, which are so, so slow. She didn’t know it was possible for someone to walk that slowly.

Not that she’s judging other girls for their walking speeds because she _totally isn’t._

The familiar creak of cheap dorm doors has never been such a sweet sound to Amy’s ears. The snap of the door shutting is even better.

Amy sort of claws at the wood to get out, but she doesn’t trust her legs at all right now so she can’t stand up and actually turn the knob like a normal person. Oh god, Rosa is going to judge her so hard for this, she can tell. Beautiful dream relationship filled with Disney-level crap- gone, just like that. Poof.

“Amy?” Rosa doesn’t sound judgmental, at least. “She’s gone. I’m sorry about that, it was a shit thing to do. I panicked.”

Oh, Amy knows a lot about panicking. She’s pretty sure that she could write a book on panicking that centers entirely on the last thirty minutes.

Footsteps, muffled by the stained carpet, heading directly towards the closet. Amy’s torn between crying with relief or crying with horror. Either way, there will be tears, and Rosa is so not one for emotions, how on Earth did Amy think that this was going to work?

“Uh, you okay in there?” The knob turns and Amy’s blinded by the ancient light strips on the ceiling and Rosa crouches down, brow knitted and reaches out but doesn’t touch and everything is kind of a lot to deal with right now.

“Amy.” Rosa’s voice takes on a new tone that Amy hasn’t heard before, soft and understanding. “Are you okay? What happened?” Pause. “Do you need to pee?”

Amy almost laughs at that, but the sound gets twisted and torn in her anxiety and comes out like a sob. 

“Hey.” Rosa does touch her now, wrapping her arms around Amy’s shoulders. It’s not stiff or uncomfortable, and it feels so damn natural.

Too bad that they’re the worst two people to ever be in a relationship.

“Rosa,” she says. Her voice wobbles, and she hates everything about herself right now, her raw cheeks and puffy eyes and _vulnerability._ “I- you-,”

Rosa’s eyes are wide, concerned. Amy’s never seen this side of her. This is the girl who climbs out windows to escape feelings, who burns items of sentimental value.

Amy still has the stuffed rabbit that her father got her at the county fair when she was six. She doesn’t know why this seems so important right now, but it does. 

“Did you know,” Amy manages, trying to sound conversational even with her eyelids aching, her breaths shuddering, “that I am very claustrophobic?”

Rosa’s mouth drops open. “Shit.”

“I’m very a lot of things,” Amy continues. “I’m very, um, emotional. I cry at animated movies. I’m very anal, and I- I try to do things and I fail a lot of the time and you’re just-,” she takes a breath, a slow one, and doesn’t look at Rosa’s face. “You’re you and you’re cool and confident and you’re also very a lot of things but they’re all things that make me want to make out with you. Like, a lot.”

Rosa shifts and she looks so uncomfortable. Amy wishes she could rewind this whole mess of a night and just play Settlers of Catan.

Or Monopoly, she’d even settle for Monopoly, even though she hates it and it takes forever. Something other than a feelings jam with the most viciously anti-feelings person on campus.

Rosa looks like she’s about to say something and Amy doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t want to hear vague condolences, empty reassurance. 

“I cry at animated movies,” she says, and okay, that is not what Amy expected at all.

“Um,” Amy says. She sniffles.

“Finding Nemo,” Rosa says, ticking off on her fingers. “Wreck-It-Ralph. Toy Story 3, oh God, _Toy Story 3._ ”

“I mean,” Amy says, still working to process this. “Everyone cried at Toy Story 3.”

“He grew up and he didn’t need them anymore,” Rosa says, still with no infliction in her voice whatsoever. “It gets me every time.”

Of course it does. She’s human, after all.

“And,” Rosa continues. “I shoved my girlfriend in a closet without checking to see if that would be okay with her first because I didn’t want my roommate to know I’m gay or pan or whatever.”

“That’s not your fault,” Amy protests. “I would’ve done the same.”

Actually, Amy’s roommate is Kylie and she’s been Amy’s friend forever so she does know that Amy likes kissing girls and one girl in particular, but that’s sort of beside the point.

“Point is,” Rosa says, “if you won’t let me feel crappy about literally shoving you into a closet, I won’t let you feel crappy about having an anxiety attack because of it.”

“That’s very wise,” Amy says. “And I also think we should get out of this closet now.”

“Oh yeah,” Rosa says. “Yeah, definitely.” She pulls Amy to her feet and leads her over to Rosa’s bed. Amy sits and thinks about the last time they talked, actually talked. It doesn’t come to mind.

“We should do this more,” Rosa says. “Not the whole closet thing, but like . . . hashing stuff out.”

“I read on marieclaire.com that communication is the key to a healthy relationship,” Amy says. She really doesn’t know why.

“Yeah,” Rosa says. “That.” She pauses, then leans over and wraps an arm around Amy’s waist. It feels nice.

“Hm,” Amy says. Tonight has been something of an epiphany, she thinks.

“We should play Settlers of Catan,” Rosa says.

“There is no possible way that will end well.” Amy smiles up at Rosa’s cracked ceiling. “Sounds great.”

**Author's Note:**

> spoiler alert: they kiss and it's gr8.


End file.
